


Guilty Pleasures

by Flames101



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Family, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:46:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flames101/pseuds/Flames101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek comes home to check up on Emily only to find her in questionable circumstances. **Written to promote the 2014 Profilers Choice Awards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guilty Pleasures

**A/N:** Hey all! This is a little one-shot starring Morgan and Emily to help promote the 2014 Profilers Choice Awards. Check out the little blurb at the end (and feel free to add it to your own stories and profiles; the more we spread the word the better. Thx!).

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Criminal Minds.

** Guilty Pleasures: **

* * *

 

Derek climbed the front steps to his newly renovated—by him—two-storey, Victorian-style home. His hands full of keys and a paper bag full of all his wife’s healthy favorites from the deli down the street; he paused on the porch, taking a moment, juggling everything. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, he pushed open the bright-red front door and stepped inside the spacious foyer.

 

“Emily!” he called out as he walked over to the little side table she’d chosen so carefully for their keys and mail to go on. His shoes clicked on the new tile floor he’d installed but months ago.

 

There was no answer, but he didn’t expect one. If Emily was following doctor’s orders then she was all the way upstairs in their bedroom, lying down and resting. If she wasn’t then she’d have some explaining to do.

 

Walking from room to room on the main floor, she was nowhere in sight. _Good,_ he thought, relieved. _She’s listening._

 

Emily was more than a little stubborn, and for a moment back in Dr. Kaminsky’s office yesterday, he thought she would outright punch the guy for even suggesting bed-rest. So Derek had wondered if she would listen.

 

Knowing that his wife was upstairs put his mind at ease. Derek didn’t head up there immediately; instead, he went to the kitchen to heat up the meal he’d purchased for her, placing it on a tray, along with her vitamins and medication.

 

The food was mostly to appease Emily’s anger, the vitamins and medicine was to ensure their baby’s health and her own.

 

Derek believed that Emily’s ire had a little something to do with the fact that JJ’s pregnancy—her third, second with Hotch—was going so smoothly, while her own—their first—had hit a snag, so to speak. Emily was only four months along, but a scare yesterday, what had felt like contractions to Emily, confirmed that she was at risk for premature labor and therefore was confined—as she put it—to bed.

 

She’d argued, complained, and downright begged for any other possible solution, but in the end Dr. Kaminsky just wouldn’t budge, hence the reason for her almost punching the guy out. Grudgingly, she’d agreed to it. Because what else could she do? For their child, they’d do anything to stave off a premature birth, no matter how cranky it made Emily—very!—and uneasy it made him.

 

Derek climbed the stairs slowly, bracing himself. God knew that he loved Emily with all his heart, but, God help him, she was one force to be reckoned with, especially when angry.

 

He heard some loud and strange noises coming from their bedroom as he arrived at the top of the stairs. At first, he thought they were coming from the TV. But as he got closer, it was clear, most of it was coming from his wife.

 

“Love it? Are you freaking crazy?” Emily was shouting. “The house David showed you is ten times better than that dump you live in! You idiots! Even Hillary can’t work miracles with the amount of money you ass-hats gave her!”

 

There were a few more surprising choice curse words after that that made Derek’s ears burn.

 

_What in the world?_ he thought, very confused. After all, she was supposed to be resting not cursing like a sailor. Apparently, she’d found a new outlet for her anger.

 

“Em?” he said unsurely as he stepped inside their bedroom.

 

There he found quite a sight. The room was a disaster zone; someone had clearly been all over it, looking for something, perhaps. His wife, though, was propped up in the middle of the bed on a mountain of pillows. That was something at least.

 

Too bad about the fistful of Cheetos that were halfway to her mouth, marking her literally red-handed…  

 

Emily stared back at him, wide-eyed and guilty looking. On top of all that, a laptop sat on the breakfast-in-bed table he’d bought for her, open and across her little belly.

 

“You’re supposed to resting,” he said dryly as he picked his way through the mess, approaching the bed.

 

He removed the laptop, noting that she was partaking in some retail therapy, and placed it on the armchair by the bed. Derek replaced it with the healthy food he’d bought for her.

 

“Hey!” she exclaimed.

 

“And how in the world did you get these?” he asked, as he moved the offending bag of orange puffs, taking the three uneaten Cheetos from her fingers, too. “I thought I cleaned out the house from stuff like this.”

 

“I may have bribed JJ—“ she began; he gave her a warning look. “—Ok, _threatened_ her to bring me some of her secret stash.” She rolled her eyes like a petulant teenager at his stern look.

 

He shook his head, bewildered by his wife’s antics. Derek stood up and started tidying the room. “They’re not good for the baby, Emily. God, you know that, too,” he commented, his frustration seeping into his voice.

 

“They’re low sodium,” she said in a small voice that had him freezing on spot.

 

He dropped what he’d picked up and turned to really look at her. For the first time upon his arrival he noticed how down she looked.

 

Sighing, Derek took a seat on the edge of the bed, reaching for her hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. This is really hard on you, isn’t it?”

 

She nodded, lip trembling, reminding him she was hopped up on all kinds of hormones that made her very emotional. And he wasn’t making things better, that was for sure.

 

Emily wasn’t one to sit around all day and do nothing. Bed rest was taking its toll on her.

 

“How’re you feeling?”

 

“Tired, exhausted; is that even possible? I’ve been resting and sleeping all day!” she replied, frustrated.

 

He didn’t point out the fact that at some point she must have gotten up to cause the hurricane that had clearly gone through their bedroom. “I’m not sure,” he answered instead, making a mental note to check with the doctor.

 

She gave his hand a squeeze back, getting his attention again. “Hey, I’m trying, really,” she stated softly.

 

He gave her a small smile; using his free hand, he tenderly smoothed back her brunette strands only to kiss her lips. “I know.”

 

“Little Kate Prentiss-Morgan is worth all of this, though,” she added, a hint of a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

 

Derek grinned back. “I don’t know who this Kate person is, but I know that Anna Prentiss-Morgan will be.”

 

She laughed, giving him a playful push to his shoulder. That was another thing they’d yet to agree on, the name of their baby girl. Somehow, though, Derek knew he was going to lose—there wasn’t much he could deny his darling wife, other than Cheetos of course. At least she’d forgotten all about her first choice: Persephone—that child would be bullied for life.

 

The tension eased; he came around the bed to lie next to her, gesturing for her to start with the food he’d brought. Starting in on her salad, Derek let his gaze wander to the television above the fireplace, she’d paused it right when he’d entered, so he still wasn’t sure what she was watching.

 

“So, how come you were yelling like a madwoman at the TV? What are you watching?” he asked.

 

She didn’t answer. And when he looked at her he found her blushing profusely. Slowly, her eyes met his, and he knew she was about to reach for the remote. Luckily, in her state, he was much faster than her.

 

“Derek!” she protested to deaf ears.

 

He proceeded to un-pause the show and had to rewind a bit when all he got was the credits.

 

_“So, are you going to love it—“_ a lady with a British accent was asking a couple.

 

_“—or list it?”_ another man finished for the woman.

 

Suspenseful music started playing as the camera panned from the woman to the man then to each of the couple.

 

_“We’re going to love it!”_ the woman of the couple answered excitedly.

 

“Idiot,” he heard Emily mutter under her breath. “She’s the one who wanted to move in the first place.”

 

Derek stopped the show and turned an amused glance on his wife.

 

“HGTV?” he questioned.

 

“In Canada they play it on the W-Network, so technically—“

 

“You hate HGTV,” he cut her off, having fun teasing her.

 

It was one of his most favorite channels, what with all the home, deck, and backyard renovating shows they played; HGTV was right up there with ESPN in his book. But he’d found out really quickly that home-renovation anything and Emily didn’t mix.

 

“I do,” she conceded. “But come on, have you ever watched daytime television. It sucks, Derek! There is seriously nothing to watch. And Love it or List it is more about the trials and tribulations the couple takes, not the renovation…”

 

“Uh huh, uh huh…” he replied. “You love it.”

 

“Shut up,” she said laughingly, using one of her many pillows to smack him in the face.

 

He laughed too, taking the pillow from her to place it behind his head. “So, what’s on next?” He pressed play and heard the voiceover lady telling the story of yet another couple’s dilemma.

 

“It’s a marathon…” Emily said without looking at him.

 

He laughed heartily at that. She didn’t comment further, but placed her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her.

 

After a few minutes of just the two of them watching Hillary and David battle it out on Love it Or List it, Derek broke the silence, curiosity winning over.

 

“So… what were you threatening JJ with?”

 

“Oh, remember how I had a bachelorette party?” she said innocently.

 

“Yeah…”

 

“I’ve got a few up close and personal shots of JJ with the stripper. You know, just her letting loose. I said I’d send them to Hotch if she didn’t bring me some snacks.”

 

He shook his head, chuckling all the same. “That wasn’t very nice.”

 

She shrugged her shoulders. “Desperate times call for desperate measures…”

 

Curiosity satiated, he leaned back, bringing her down with him. It wasn’t until the next commercial break that it hit him.

 

“Wait! What? Stripper?”

 

* * *

 

 

Well that’s it for this little one-shot. Hope you enjoyed!

 

And, now for the info on the 2014 Profilers Choice Awards:

**The 2014 PROFILER'S CHOICE CRIMINAL MINDS FANFIC AWARDS are back! Calling all CM readers and authors! Join us in celebrating the best of the best CM stories for the annual Profiler's Choice CM Awards! Help us and let your voices be heard. Please check out the nomination ballot and rules at the**[ **ProfilerChoiceAwards2014 Forum**](https://www.fanfiction.net/forum/Profilers-Choice-Awards-2014/162134/) **(Direct Link). All rules and information are on the forum. Nominations begin November 15 and are due December 31st.** **Good Luck!**

As an added bonus: **We encourage all nominations (rules permitted). We accept ballots starting at one nomination, however, all ballots with five or more nominations will be entered into a drawing for one of three Amazon gift cards. Nominations run until 11:59EST on December 31, 2014. The final ballot will be published in early January 2015.**


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